


Blushing Bunny

by unwillingadventurer



Category: Raffles - E. W. Hornung
Genre: Crime and Cricket, rafflesweek, schooldays
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-09
Updated: 2019-03-09
Packaged: 2019-11-14 10:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,236
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18051140
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/unwillingadventurer/pseuds/unwillingadventurer
Summary: Bunny is confined with illness and Raffles comes to visit.





	Blushing Bunny

**Author's Note:**

> Written for Raffles Week: day 1. Stuffed bird. Raffles and Bunny at school.

My throat felt like it was on fire. I felt like I would cough and send flames from my mouth like a majestic dragon. My cheeks were hot too; bright red like a rose but not nearly as pretty. I was thrashing about in my bed covers trying to escape from the warmth of the layers but mere seconds later and I was freezing cold, locked in a battle with my own body heat. I propped myself up upon the pillow, unable to sleep through the illness and wondering whether death was imminent. I’d contracted scarlet fever and was confined to the school infirmary, isolated in a small room with a single bed to fight out the worst of the infection. My only company thus far had been the formidable matron and more favourably, the characters from the novels I was reading- the only comfort and escape from my fevered existence. 

Gently closing my eyes, I heard a sudden creaking noise, a bang, and then a sliding sound, as though the window were opening. Had death come for me already? I was still so young, so much life to live. I wasn’t ready for the cruel dark hand of the reaper to snatch me from my boyhood to the unknown depths of the beyond. I sat upright and alert. I was already shaking from the fever but now I was also shaking from fear. 

Seconds later a figure descended towards me but its features were concealed by darkness. Its hands reached toward me, and in that moment, I prepared for its cold icy touch. Instead it was warm on my arm and I realised the figure was lighting a candle when I heard the strike of a match and saw the space around me illuminate, bringing the room to life.

“Poor Bunny,” the voice said. 

In the light I realised the figure didn’t resemble death at all but was in fact the image of my guardian angel. It was A.J Raffles in the flesh- the angel with the cunning smile of a devil. 

“Raffles? You’re not allowed in here, I’m contagious!” I was so worried for him then. I couldn’t bear to think of him unwell if he got too close. 

“I’ve caught many things in my time, Bunny. I’ve probably already had it.”

“Do you even know what I’m suffering with?”

“No, not really.”

“It’s scarlet fever,” I croaked.

“What else would it be for my blushing Bunny?”

“Have you had it before?”

“Not quite sure, possibly, but I’ll chance it. I didn’t think I should stay away. I merely came to see if you were alright. I didn’t even know you were ill until this morning.”

“I’ve been here five days!”

He sat down on the bed and I cringed at the thought that he was examining me, but there he was, touching my brow, tucking me in and wishing me well and I realised I didn’t mind the inspection as long as he was noticing me.

“Ah yes well I drunk rather a lot on Saturday and for the last few days I’ve been sleeping it off. Then I noticed that my rooms were an awful mess.”

I folded my arms. “I see.”

“Well of course I also missed your company. Once I inquired after you and they told me you were sick, they wouldn’t let me see you, hence the unusual entrance. I say, I’m glad it’s scarlet fever, I was half-imagining bubonic plague the way they were carrying on.”

“It feels like bubonic plague,” I spluttered, forcing myself to talk. “I’m not sure how much time I have left, Raffles.”

To my surprise he laughed. “They told me you were through the worst. What a melodramatic little cuss you are. You’ll outlive us all.”

I sighed wearily and then he touched my hand and gave it a squeeze. My chest felt tight then. I had palpitations. I wasn’t sure if I was dying or whether I was excited that his hand was on mine.

“Well I’m glad you’re here,” I said, “I’ve been dreadfully lonely.”

“Yes, you must be bored rotten in here.” He glanced at the book I was reading, scanning the page under the bookmark. “With Wackford Squeers as your only company, no wonder you only see the grimness. You need to be reminded of the glory of life, Bunny, not the misery.”

“What remains of it, Raffles.”

“There’s no point dwelling, my boy, on things we cannot control. ‘Ours is not to reason why, ours is but to do and die’.”

“It’s the dying part I’m afraid of!”

“I understand.”

I clung at his sleeve. “I’m scared, Raffles.” 

It was difficult for a growing boy to admit that, especially to someone like A.J Raffles, a fellow on the cusp of manhood, a towering figure of a person- one who could inspire artists to sculpt his form in marble or clay. Even in the dim candlelight he was radiant and beautiful. His lips were full and plump, oh how I would miss the chance to kiss them if I were to be cruelly taken from this Earth before I reached maturity! I wasn’t ready to leave this life yet when I hadn’t done any of the things I had so longed to do and I certainly wasn’t ready to leave him, my beloved cricketer. 

He ruffled my hair which was damp with sweat. “Silly old Rabbit, there’s nothing wrong with being scared. That proves you’re alive, my boy.”

I nodded and then whispered. “Raffles, if the worst does come to the worst, if I do die…I bequeath you my books, all of them.”

“It won’t be necessary, but thank you. Now, I think I should let you rest and leave before I’m spotted. I don’t mind admitting Matron frightens me more than any police inspector.”

I managed a giggle but felt so weak, even to laugh was exhausting and my cheeks were still so flushed. 

“You’ll be right as rain in no time,” he said as he made his way to the window. “Oh, and I brought you your notebook in case you feel like scribbling away. I know how wonderful your imagination is.”

“Verses from a death-bed?”

He laughed and tossed the book at me. “Don’t be a martyr, Bunny, I expect to see you soon, carrying my bags. Do try and get better before cricket season begins.”

“That’s three months away!” I squeaked.

He laughed again. “Goodnight…oh and Bunny?”

“Yes?”

“I have had scarlet fever.”

“Oh, you rotter! I was worried. I thought I might have infected you!”

When I turned to look back at him by the window, he was already clambering out.

“Raffles, be careful!”

“I’m a dab-hand at climbing in and out of windows, my dear Rabbit, as well you know.”

“But you could fall in the dark.”

“You’re delirious, this room is on the ground floor. Get some sleep, you really need it. Goodnight my blushing Bunny.”

“Goodnight Raf-“

But before I finished my sentence he was gone in a flash, out of the window and out of my life for the next week. Sometimes I even wonder if he’d been there at all, if he was some figment of my imagination, conjured as a result of my boyhood fever, appearing as my angel in the night to bring me the strength and courage to make a full recovery.


End file.
